


You Will Always Be My Everything

by xxCat1989xx



Series: Scomiche: The Prompt Series [1]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: M/M, One Shot Collection, Prompt Fic, Scomiche
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8753296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxCat1989xx/pseuds/xxCat1989xx
Summary: To fill this prompt: My parents moved me halfway across the world when we were twelve and before that we were best friends but now I’m back and moving in across the hall from you so hi?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii. So this isn't my first fanfiction, however, it's my first in this fandom. I wanted to start a collection based off of prompts I've collected over the last year or so that were just screaming out for me to write about. What better fandom than this one. I can't guarantee when the next one will be but I'm hoping to post at least one every fortnight. 
> 
> If there are any mistakes, please let me know as I self-edit these and always miss something. Also, any errors regarding characterisation, please let me know that also.
> 
> Thanks & enjoy,  
> Cat x

“Please, Scott, promise me one thing?”

“Anything, Mitchy.”

“Promise me that I will always be your best friend.”

“Always, Mitchy. You will always be my everything.”

_Ten years later_

“Now, Scott, have you got everything?” his Mom says, fussing and hovering over him as he checks his pockets for his boarding pass and passport. Again. She’s been crying and fretting since he told them he was moving to LA a couple of months before. And this is not the first time she asked him if he’s got his passport today. “It’s not too late to cancel and stay with us.”

Scott reaches down for his carry-on, slinging it across his shoulder and sighing at his Mom’s worrying. He’s not mad though, not at all. He’s going to miss them as much as they’ll miss him, but he’s going to miss his flight if she makes him check his pockets again. And he really doesn’t fancy having to explain to Kirstie that he missed his flight because of his mother. The ‘Momma’s boy’ jokes would increase tenfold.

“Yes, it is, Connie. Let the boy go.” His Dad steps up to her and pulls her into his arms. “Leave him be.” Scott smiles as his Dad, Rick, rubs his hand up and down Connie’s arm to sooth her. It doesn’t work as fresh tears make their way down her face, but she’s smiling that proud smile she always has for him at her little boy growing up and making his own path. Scott knows she’ll be okay once she’s accepted that he’s no longer thirteen and needing a ride to his first date.

“Mom, I love you, but I need to go.” Scott draws her into his arms one more time and places a kiss to the top of her head. “I will call you when I get there. Kirstie is meeting me the other side so it’s not like I’m going to be on my own.”

“I know, I know. But you’re my little boy. I’m allowed to worry.”

“And I love you for it. But I really have to go.”

Scott hugs his father goodbye, exchanging ‘love you’s’ and ‘I’ll see you soon’ before turning away from his parents and making his way to security. Once he passes through the metal detector, accepting his bag that has been checked and re-adjusts all his belongings on his body, he waves back at them and breathes a sigh of relief.

Saying goodbye is always hard.

At twenty-two, he’s only ever had to do it once before, when he was twelve and his parents were forcing him to move to London. Mitch had been his best friend since they were both ten and had met each other at CATS theatre group. When Mitch had entered the stage dressed as Mike TV and acting like he was born to do it, Scott had fallen in love with him instantly and had to find out who he was. Soon they were inseparable, but when his Dad had sat him down one day and said that work was relocating him halfway across the world, Scott’s world collapsed.

He remembers running out of the house, needing to see his best friend. Scott ran the mile down the road to Mitch’s house, and when he got there, he banged on the front door, not caring that it was 7am and he’d forgotten to put shoes on. Mike, Mitch’s dad, had opened the door with a smile that soon disappeared when he’d seen the state that Scott had worked himself into. Scott pushed past him, running straight into Mitch’s room and launching himself on the bed, startling Mitch who was still sleeping. Normally he wouldn’t get away with it, but as soon as Mitch saw his face, saw the tears running down his red, blotchy cheeks, Mitch was wide awake and demanding to know who they were beating up.

Scott shook his head sadly and explained everything that his Dad had told him. Soon enough, tears were running down Mitch’s face too. Scott fell into his friend’s arms, sobbing so hard that he couldn’t breathe. Mitch tried to calm him as best he could through his own sadness. Connie and Nel, Mitch’s Mom, found them after a while, Mitch wrapped around Scott under the covers, both having cried themselves to sleep,

Two weeks later, Scott was looking sadly out the back window as they drove away from their house, knowing he’d probably never see his best friend again.

And now, he was boarding a plane to LA, still hating goodbyes as much as he did when he was twelve, but life moves on. He has an incredible opportunity at a record label that his friend from London had gotten him after she had moved over there the year before.

Scott loves Kirstie, almost as much as he loved Mitch. She was his rock when he started at a new school. They had become fast friends after Scott had walked into his new classroom, scared about being the outsider, the weird kid from America with a stupid accent, but as soon as he opened his mouth to introduce himself to his class, Kirstie’s face lit up when she learned he was from her native Texas and they’d been friends ever since.

She’s been with him through everything, including him coming out when he was fifteen, her only reaction being “well, duh?” and going back to painting his nails the bright pink she had dared him into at a sleepover at her house. Later, she’d said that she had known for a while, mainly because he was the only male friend she had that hadn’t tried to make out with her, to which Scott laughed, appalled at the thought, Kirstie soon joining as they rolled around the floor of her bedroom, stomachs aching from laughing so hard.

When she had called him about a job a few months before, Scott hadn’t hesitated in saying yes. He was sick of working his boring 9-to-5 job and London had never been home for him. America was where he needed to be.

Eleven hours later, Scott’s flight touches down in LA. He departs the plane and makes his way into arrivals with only the bag on his back. Scanning the crowd, he laughs when he sees Kirstie jumping up and down behind a group of people, waving her arms in the air so he can see her. There’s a tall, brunette guy with her, who smiles fondly at her antics. Pushing her way through the group, she runs at him. Scott has barely enough time to drop his bag before she’s in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, curly blonde hair creating a cloak around them.  He hugs her back just as tightly, so happy to see her he’s giddy with the feeling. She smells exactly as he remembers and after pressing a kiss to her cheek, he lets her down.

“Scott, I want you to meet someone. This is Jeremy.” Kirstie grabs the hand of the man who was standing with her and brings him into their bubble. She wraps her arm around Jeremy’s waist and the hearts in her eyes don’t go unnoticed by Scott when she looks up at the face of the man she’s brought with her.

Straightening his clothes and adjusting his snapback nervously, Scott extends a hand to shake Jeremy’s, saying “hi Jeremy. I’m Scott. Nice to meet you.” Some guys don’t like when you pick up their girlfriends, even if he is gay. Something about him being a broad, blue eyed, blonde guy seems to come across as threatening to some.

“Likewise, Scott. I’ve heard so much about you,” Jeremy responds, grin on his face setting Scott at ease. “Do we need to grab anything else or are you ready to go?”

“No, this is all I brought. Kirstie has the rest of it.” Scott reaches down to grab his bag, but Jeremy beats him to it, waving off Scott’s hand when he goes to take it from him. Jeremy takes Kirstie’s hand in his free one and turns towards the exit. Scott walks on Kirstie’s other side, letting her link her arm through his when he puts his hands in his jeans pockets.

“Oh, so it’s your Batman onesie she wears around the apartment?” Jeremy says, laughing at the look of surprise on Scott’s face.

“You went through my stuff?” Scott exclaims in shock. “Kirstie!”

“I’m sorry, Scooter. I was too excited about seeing you and I got bored one night so thought I’d unpack some of your things.” Scott notices she doesn’t look sorry in the slightest. He squeezes her arm against his side, letting her know he’s not actually mad.

An hour later, Jeremy pulls his car up in front of an apartment building, leaving the engine running.

“You not coming up?” Kirstie asks, taking her hand off the passenger door handle and turning to Jeremy, pouting slightly.

“No, I’ll let you two catch up tonight, babe. But we’ll all go out for dinner tomorrow if you’d like that, Scott.” Jeremy turns around in his seat to address Scott.

“Yeah, man, that sounds great,” Scott replies, clapping his hand against Jeremy’s shoulder in thanks, happy for this wonderful, kind man being in his friend’s life. He’s learned on the drive from LAX that they met at a karaoke bar six months ago. Kirstie had been singing Kelly Clarkson on stage, and according to Jeremy, it was love at first sight. Scott could tell from the way that the story was being told that Jeremy loves his friend quite a lot and he worships the ground she walks on. Looking at his friend, he guesses the feeling is very mutual.

Scott and Kirstie exit the vehicle, waving Jeremy off when he beeps the horn and Kirstie leads him into the building using her key, promising him she’ll get him a set from the building manager the next day.

Just as he’s about to cross the threshold, something bumps into his front. Scott reaches out to steady the person who crashed into him and is met with brown eyes that look so familiar it takes Scott’s breath away. When the smaller man takes a step back, Scott has a good look at the person in front of him. Short, black hair, long nose, the prettiest lips. His outfit wouldn’t look out of place at a fashion show. He’s easily the most beautiful person Scott has ever seen.

“Sorry, sorry,” the person mumbles, somehow managing to keep hold of the stack of records in his arms. Scott keeps his arms out ready to catch them anyway. After an awkward second when neither knows what to say, Scott holds the door open for the shorter man and he passes through with a quiet ‘thank you’, flying down the steps into a waiting cab.

“No worries,” Scott calls after him. “Have a good evening.”

When he turns back to Kirstie, she’s standing with her arms crossed, her hips cocked out to the side and a smirk on her face. Scott startles slightly when she starts laughing at him.

“What?” he asks, confusion setting in as she waves him off and walks towards the bank of lifts in the corner of the lobby. “No, really, what?” Scott follows after her, taking note of the floor number she presses.

“Nothing. Nothing. The blush on your face when you looked at Mitch said it all.”

“Mitch?” Scott exclaims in surprise, turning back towards the front door, even though the person who bumped into him is long gone.

A look of surprise passes her face at his reaction to the name.

“Yeah. His name is Mitch. He lives across the hall from us. Why? Do you know him?”

“I, I don’t know. I used to have a friend called Mitch, but I haven’t seen him for years.”

Kirstie cocks her head to the side as if she’s thinking. “Huh, I don’t know that much about him. He’s our age, I think, but he’s rarely at home so I only know him from passing in the hall. Could he be the Mitch I heard so much about when we were growing up?”

“I mean, it’s possible. Something about his eyes made me feel like I was ten-years-old again,” Scott shrugs, stepping out of the lift onto their floor. “I don’t know.”

A couple of hours and a bottle of wine later, Scott and Kirstie cuddle up on the sofa, pleased at having managed to unpack most of Scott’s belongings and get his room ready for living in. He takes a look around the apartment. It’s not too small; kitchen area attached to the living area, separated only by a breakfast bar and a couple of stools. There are two bedrooms, both en-suite, which Scott is thankful for. He remembers how long it used to take Kirstie to get ready after staying at each other’s houses when they were younger and he doesn’t much fancy fighting her for space in front of the mirror.

Kirstie has painted the walls of the living room a soft lilac colour, which complements the hardwood floor perfectly. Set in the wall to the left of them is a set of glass doors leading out onto a small balcony. Scott imagines late summer nights drinking wine with his friend as they watch the sun go down.

She told him when he was ready he could decorate his room whatever colours he wants. According to her, the building manager, Avi, is quite relaxed about people making their apartments their own as long as no walls are knocked down and rent is paid on time, and Avi has been known to turn up at nights out with her gang as he’s friends with one of her colleagues, Kevin.

Turning the volume down on the TV, Kirstie turns to Scott and says, “I’m so glad you’re here, Scotty.” She takes his arm and puts it around her shoulders, settling into his side with her arm across his stomach.

“Me too, Kirst, me too.” He drops a kiss onto her head and feels himself fall asleep as she starts singing softly.

\--

Having a week before he starts his new job, Scott spends it exploring the local area. He’s already learned where the nearest Starbucks is, where the best places to grab a quick bite to eat are and has signed up to the local gym, intending to keep up with the health-kick he started back in London when he found himself with lots of free-time after Kirstie had left. He’s bulked up a lot in a year and he’d like to keep it that way.

Jogging up the stairs in their apartment building to prolong the excellent workout he’s had that morning, Scott comes to an abrupt stop along the hall when the door across from his own opens and out pops Mitch.

He hasn’t seen him at all since that first night and Scott doesn’t know how he managed to forget how beautiful he is. It takes his breath away all over again. He’s wearing the most sinful pair of jeans that hug all the right places, teaming it with a plain black t-shirt that hangs off his petite frame and completing the outfit with the cutest pair of black platform boots. The whole ensemble makes Scott want to learn what he’s got underneath, and if the tattoos he’s got littering his arms are any indication, there are probably a few more spread across his body. Scott’s wishful thinking kicks in, hoping one day he might get to find out.

Shaking himself out of his delusions, Scott approaches the door to his apartment, fumbling with his keys.

“Morning.”

Scott turns on the spot, surprised at being addressed by this beautiful creature. If what Kirstie has been telling him is true, Mitch is quite the night owl and likes to keep to himself. Also, if he listens to Kirstie, Scott has managed to develop a crush on the guy he’s only bumped into, literally, once since he’s been here.

“Hi,” Scott replies, lifting a hand up wave a greeting. _Lame_ , he mumbles to himself, laughing at how his voice cracks on one simple word. _Dammit, Kirstie_.

Mitch chuckles softly to himself and waves back, turning and walking down the hall away from Scott. Before he reaches the door to the stairwell, he turns back and throws Scott a cheeky grin. Scott feels his stomach flutter at how gorgeous it is.

He lets himself into the apartment, whistling away, but drops his keys in shock when he sees Kirstie and Jeremy cuddled up on the sofa, blanket strewn across their laps, bowl of popcorn balanced on Jeremy’s lap. _Frozen_ is playing on the TV and Anna is singing for her life.

“Hey guys,” Scott says, reaching to pick up his keys. He hopes that his face isn’t still red from blushing at his own stupidity. Swiping his towel across his forehead to wipe away the bead of sweat threatening to fall, Scott makes his way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, taking his time looking through the fridge, dragging out the conversation he knows is coming.

“Hey boo,” Kirstie laughs, munching away on a handful of popcorn. “What’s got you so happy?” Never mind. Kirstie has always been observant. He doesn’t know why he ever tries hiding things from her.

“Nothing, nothing. Good workout. Why aren’t you at work?” He takes a gulp of water to stop himself from speaking anymore.

“Day off. Don’t deflect. The whistling has nothing to do with the fact I just heard the door across the hall open?” She picks up the remote for the TV and pauses the screen. Dropping a kiss to Jeremy’s cheek she stands from the sofa, pushing the blanket behind her and walking to stand by his side.

“Kirst, leave the boy alone,” Jeremy admonishes her as she starts to make kissy noises at Scott. Scott feels his face turn beet red and he chuckles with embarrassment, running a hand across his face. He pushes his hair away from where it’s threatening to fall and groans, scrubbing at his forehead, wishing he could rub away his mortification.

Kirstie laughs, reaching up to ruffle Scott’s hair. “Does Scooter have a crush on our neighbour?”

“Scooter barely knows our neighbour,” he replies, playfully pushing her hand away from where she’s been poking his chest. “Come on, Kirst, I’ve been here less than a week.” Scott leans back against the counter and crosses his arms across his chest.

“I know, I know, but you’d be so cute together. I ship it!” Kirstie sways on the balls of her feet, clasping her hands in front of her like a love-struck school girl. Scott giggles at the image of hearts floating above her head.

“You ship everyone,” he points out. He takes another gulp of water before placing the bottle on the side behind him.

“You’re not wrong,” Jeremy chimes in from where he’s shovelling popcorn in his mouth like they’re the most entertaining thing to watch.

Kirstie turns and points at her boyfriend. “Hey, I want everyone to be happy. What is wrong with that?”

“Nothing, babe, but maybe don’t try to force Scotty into a relationship just yet?”  

Suitably mollified, Kirstie drops back onto the heels of feet. “Oh, fine. Anyway, what are you doing tonight?” she asks Scott, making her way back to the sofa and snuggling back into Jeremy’s side taking the popcorn bowl from him. Scott walks over to join them.

He hasn’t thought to make many plans at all this past week, not knowing anyone other than the people in this room. He’s been too focused on not getting lost in this big city.

“Nothing. Why?” he asks, taking a handful of popcorn and settling in to watch the rest of the movie with his friends.

“I may, or may not, have planned a bit of a party. A sort of ‘welcome to the city, Scott’.”

“Okay. I’m game. Who’s coming?” He’s instantly excited at the thought of a party and mentally starts picking apart the clothes in his wardrobe. When he’d shipped his things over, Scott only sent enough to cover his work outfits and clothes to lounge round the house in. He’d figure that he’d find time to shop for nicer things when he received his first month’s pay.

A bright grin alights Kirstie’s face at his acceptance of her plans. “Yay. Well, I’ve invited a few people from work. Avi said he’d pop his head in at some point. A few of Jeremy’s friends said they might make an appearance. That okay? Just some food, friends and alcohol.”

“Yeah, that sounds great, Kirst. What time is everyone getting here?” Scott stands from the sofa, intent on taking a long, hot shower and having a quick nap before people start arriving. Parties Kirstie used to throw back in London tended to last until the early hours and Scott knows a nap beforehand is the only way he’ll be able to stay awake enough to function.

“I said about 7. That okay?”

“Great. I’m going to have a nap. See you later.”

\--

It’s quickly approaching midnight when there’s a knock on the front door of their apartment. Scott has been in the kitchen area for the last hour talking to Esther, who he’s learned is Avi’s sister, Kate and Nicole; three of the people he’s going to be working with when he starts his new job.

He doesn’t feel stuck however. He’s grown to love these women in the short time he’s known them. Scott’s grateful that they seem to like him too. Nicole keeps dropping her head onto his shoulder whenever she feels like it and Esther grabs his hand every time he makes her laugh. It makes starting his new job seem a lot less daunting now he knows people.

His attention is pulled away from the laughing fit that Nicole is having at Kate dropping her drink all down her front when he hears “hey Mitch. Thanks for coming.”

Excusing himself from the giggling women, Scott rounds the corner back into the living area to see Kirstie pulling away from hugging Mitch. Scott feels his eyes widen when he takes in Mitch’s appearance. Tonight he’s wearing a long black top that drapes around his hips, shoulders padded to make them seem broader than they are. On his lower half he’s wearing zig-zag patterned black and white skinny trousers and on his feet are the same black boots from that morning. He looks like a dream Scott once had and he feels immensely underdressed in his plain black shirt, jeans and leopard-print snapback all of a sudden. Mitch laughs at something Kirstie says and instantly, Scott’s heart starts racing at the sound of it.

He feels a blush rise on his cheeks when Mitch makes eye contact with him and smiles that same grin he graced him with that morning. Kirstie turns to see what’s drawn away the attention of her guest, but when she spots Scott a big smile engulfs her face and she winks at him. _Dammit Kirstie_.

“Scooter, come meet our neighbour,” she shouts, beckoning him over, not even trying to hide the mischievous tone of her voice. Rather than it make Mitch uncomfortable though, he laughs at her, eyes closed in delight, but then he makes eye contact with Scott again, and Scott’s feet start moving without him even thinking about it.

“Hi neighbour,” Scott greets, internally groaning when his hand waves without his say-so again. Mitch giggles before saying “hi” back. Kirstie gives him a look as if to say ‘you’re an idiot’. _She’s not wrong_ , he thinks.

“Scott, why don’t you get Mitch a drink while you introduce yourselves?” Kirstie suggests, clapping her hands in front of her happily. He knows she’s plotting something; he’s going to have to shut her down before she does something to embarrass him.

“Sure. Follow me.” Scott takes the lead and makes his way around groups of people towards the now empty kitchen. He makes a beeline for the alcohol lined up on the counter. “What would you like? I think we have a bit of everything.”

“Vodka tonic, please,” Mitch replies, stopping next to Scott and leaning against the counter next to him as he makes his drink. “So how long have you been in LA for, Scott?”

Passing over Mitch’s drink and turning to fix himself a fresh strawberry martini, Scott replies, “Actually, that first night you bumped into me I had just arrived here fresh off an eleven-hour flight from London.”

“Hmm. What were you doing in London? You don’t sound like you were born there.”

“I lived there for a while with my parents. Dad got a new job so the whole family went. But Kirstie told me about a job here with her and I couldn’t say no. America is home, you know. I missed it even though I was quite young when we left.”

“Wow. Yeah, no, I agree totally. I’m not from around here, but even I can agree that leaving the continent would be quite hard.”

Scott finishes up making his drink and turns to lean his hip against the counter-top, giving his full attention to his new friend. From this angle, Scott has the perfect view of Mitch’s profile and his stomach flutters at the image. Mitch turns to face him and he’s suddenly very aware of their height difference, with Mitch looking up at him to maintain eye contact as they talk. He gets a whiff of cologne when Mitch steps closer and something running underneath that could only be all Mitch. It makes his blood sing in his veins.

An hour later they are tucked up on one of the armchairs in the living area, having relocated when a group of people stormed the kitchen looking for snacks. Scott is sat on the chair with Mitch leaning against the arm, but every time one of them laughs they lean in towards each other, and Scott has lost count of the number of times Mitch has had to balance himself using Scott’s shoulder as an anchor. His skin buzzes every time Mitch does it. Scott is really not ready for this night to be over.

He’s learned a lot about their neighbour in the short time they’ve been talking. Turns out Mitch is a voluntary social worker during the day, helping out at a youth outreach programme at a community centre locally that caters to LGBTQ+ teens and young adults. Most nights though he DJs at a club in the main part of the city that he makes Scott promise to attend when he’s settled in at his job properly.

It settles something inside Scott to know that Mitch is gay like he is, having spent most of his young adult life having to be careful with his sexuality around people he’s just met. Scott’s learned the hard way on more than one occasion that not everybody is comfortable around people who are ‘different’ and outspoken about it like he is. He wishes he’d had someone like Mitch to go and talk to when he was growing up but he’s thankful that he had Kirstie and his parents regardless.

He doesn’t know what makes him ask Mitch if he’d like to see his room, but the alcohol in his system must be making him brave enough. Or maybe it’s that Mitch feels like an old friend, someone he’s known for years and can be himself around. Scott plans to get to know Mitch a hell of a lot more.

They make their way down the short corridor to Scott’s room. Scott opens the door and flicks the light on. Suddenly overcome with nerves, he moves to push some of the mess off the bed, making a note to clean up in the morning.

“Sorry about the mess. All my nice clothes are still back in London so it took me ages to figure out what to wear.”

“No worries. My apartment isn’t any tidier than this. Mommy does not clean,” Mitch jokes, moving to set his glass on Scott’s bedside table. “Maybe we can go shopping one day and remedy that problem.”

“Sounds brilliant. Make yourself at home. I’m going to sort my hair out. This hat is making me hot.”

“Yeah it is,” Mitch quips. Scott is glad they’re already at this point in their relationship where banter is expected and welcomed. He still blushes at Mitch’s words though, ducking his head as he enters his bathroom. Mitch thinks he’s hot. He grins gleefully at his own reflection in the mirror.

He flicks the light on but leaves the door open to listen out for Mitch as he makes his way around the room, picking up random objects to inspect and replacing them, passing a comment every now and again on what he’s found. Taking his hat off and tossing it on the side, Scott reaches for the small pot of wax on the side and scoops a little onto his palm, running it through his hair and swooping it to the side. He loves how wavy his hair has become as it grows out.

He washes the excess off his hands and grabs a towel to dry them, leaning against the doorway back into his bedroom. Mitch has stopped his explorations at Scott’s desk, holding the frame that contains a photo from his childhood in. It’s a photo of his Mitch, back when they still lived in Texas. He put it up when he sorted his room out. Even now, he still thinks about his best friend on a daily basis, wondering where he is and what he’s doing. Scott hopes he’s happy.

Looking at his new friend from across the room, Scott can feel the tension radiating from Mitch’s body, and only when he clears his throat does Mitch turn in surprise at the interruption.

“Scott?” he asks, voice sounding so small and unsure that Scott takes a couple of steps towards him, curiously wondering what a photo has to do with Mitch’s unexpected change in mood.

“Yeah, Mitch?”

“Wh-why do you have this photo of me?” Mitch demands, voice cracking and hands shaking as he thrusts the photo at Scott..

“You? This is a photo of my best friend when I was a kid. It was taken a few days before I left.” Scott runs his finger over the frame delicately before placing it back on the desk. When he looks up, Mitch’s face is pale, like he’s seen a ghost, but his eyes sparkle with unshed tears.

“Scott Richard Hoying. Born September 17th 1991\. Lived in Arlington, Texas. Parents Connie and Rick Hoying,” Mitch recites as if reading a Wikipedia page, “CATS theatre group, left for London when we were 12. If I remember correctly, also the bestest friend I have ever had. I am such an idiot.” Mitch reaches a hand up to cup Scott’s cheek. “It’s really you.”

“Mitch? Mitchell Grassi?” Scott covers the hand on his face with his own, eyes starting to tear up as all the puzzle pieces slot into place. He can’t believe he’s been talking to Mitch for an hour and they haven’t managed to work this out sooner.

Mitch nods, and in between one breath and the next, arms are wrapped around his waist and Mitch buries his face in Scott’s chest, squeezing him tightly. Scott lifts his arms to wrap them around his long-lost friend, resting his cheek on top of the smaller boy’s head. A tear slips out but he doesn’t reach up to stop it, intending on never letting go of the person in his arms.

It feels like a very, very good dream. One Scott never wants to wake up from.

They stand there for ten minutes, holding each other, but Mitch sniffs back tears and pulls away, only stepping away far enough to rest his hands on Scott’s hips and take him all in. Scott does the same, hands reaching to rest on Mitch’s shoulders. No wonder his eyes looked so familiar that first night; they are literally the same. This is his Mitch. The Mitch he thought he’d lost ten years ago. And he happens to live across the hall. If he didn’t believe in fate or destiny or whatever before, he definitely does now.

Warm, brown eyes connect with his. Anticipation settles in the room and he can’t help but lean into Mitch’s space. He flicks his eyes between Mitch’s eyes and lips. Body moving off its own accord, Scott stoops down and presses his lips against the plush ones of his friend, groaning when Mitch reciprocates almost instantly. Hands reach up to hold his where they’re wrapped around Mitch’s neck. His eyes close.

Mitch opens his mouth under his, deepening the kiss, turning it from sweet and innocent to downright indecent. He feels Mitch’s tongue swipe across his bottom lip before entering his mouth and he can’t stop the moan that escapes at the feeling sweeping through his body.

He’d like to say there were fireworks and every other cliché from every romantic movie Scott’s ever seen, but there aren’t. The room is silent, seemingly waiting for the pair to break apart, to catch their breath. Scott can feel every point they are touching; lips, hands, bodies. Time seems to stop, and when they break apart, start again. Sound starts flooding back in. His hands tingle from where they have been clutching at Mitch.

Scott opens his eyes, smile already adorning his face. When he sees the same smile on Mitch’s face he chuckles. He drops his arms to the side and takes a step back.

“That was…” he starts.

“…Incredible,” Mitch finishes. He reaches a hand out to clasp Scott’s.

Scott intends on never letting go.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/cat331x13).


End file.
